


Zutara Drabble Collection

by Harlow R (harlowrd)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlowrd/pseuds/Harlow%20R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zutara drabbles of various lengths, mostly inspired by typetrigger prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. feel this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because there’s no possible version of you that would know how to handle this.

You flinch away slightly, but you’re not rejecting her (you’re _not_ ); it’s just that you’re not used to people touching you, and _there_ of all places.

Or so you tell yourself. It’s also because it’s her that’s doing the touching, but never mind that.

Katara’s fingers are warm and velvety on your skin. All of her looks soft, as if the water she bends had penetrated every cell of her body just to make her stronger and more beautiful. Because she is. Beautiful, that is. You can’t deny that – you no longer have any interest in denying it. What the hell, right? You could all die as soon as next week, anyway. You, in particular, probably will. Might as well live a little by not pretending to yourself she doesn’t for some reason feel like pure home to your fucked up soul. Facing that can’t be scarier than facing Ozai. Or Azula.

She moves to return the water droplets back to their basin. The cut, right at the edge of your scar, was so tiny she only needed a little of it; then she only used a finger or two to apply it (“I need the practice, anyway”), and the rest of her hand was left touching completely non-cut spots of your face. No healing happening there. Just regular old touching. Her hair, her neck – _something_ – is fragrant as it passes you by. The scent is familiar, and it doesn’t take you long to realize you’ve made an emotional attachment to it: a little musky, but also refreshingly sharp, just like her.

She catches your stare. Her blue eyes widen, and just like that you know that she knows. She knows you love her.

She swallows, gaze dropping. “All done.”

“Thanks."

You stand and walk away.


	2. glass dropped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their bodies meet like glass shattering.

Their bodies meet like glass shattering, corroded by the sea for a thousand years only to be reborn into smooth sand underneath their feet.

It’s never been a big deal before, and he thought it would continue to be that way – a physical act so comparatively brief that it could never live up to the way his heart swells because of her. There is always an unfathomable dimension of things that are more important to Zuko than sex, in or out of a relationship. But it is overwhelming how much the solid reality of her skin beneath his fingers inundates him, moves him, rearranges the particles of his brain into new paths that all lead to her, to them, together.

His eyes are closed, but his body understands that this is Katara; it makes everything throb with phantom aches that even she isn’t enough to soothe (but she is the closest possible thing). His mouth recognizes her neck, her breast, even though it has never touched them before. His ears drink in the sound of her voice, despite never having heard those noises from her until now.

They move together like sea on sand, again and again until there is nothing left but convergence. It shakes the land and stirs the ocean and nothing will ever be the same again.


End file.
